


Keys

by extremesoft



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, I hope I tagged everything there is to tag, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rape Fantasy, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Toying with jealousy, omg omg omg, some arguing, what in the name of jeepers have I done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremesoft/pseuds/extremesoft
Summary: His body tenses up in a way that somehow reminds him of their first time, the nerves and anticipation quickly overridden by all-powerful lust. It’s a lifetime ago now, when Daniel stands with his back to Max and Max has his arm in a grip so tight the sting spreads from it and blurs his outlines.





	Keys

**Author's Note:**

> I am very aware that there exists a work beginning with an "i" that I should have probably attended to on last Friday but, to shamelessly borrow a saying a very wise woman recently used on tumblr, I fell on my keyboard in a very odd way and the end result was, uh, the kinkiest kink I have kinked in my entire kink- no I mean life, omfg I swear to heavens I didn't see this one coming at all.
> 
> I honestly can't begin to stress enough how important it is to read the tags this time and, if you're still unsure, read the more detailed summary I've added to the bottom notes, and if you're still unsure then please don't push it, because this can genuinely feel or seem quite unpleasant at times despite everything happening in mutual understanding. Right, guys? Don't push it. Okay. And if you read this, I sincerely do hope you enjoy despite this being quite unwholesome and certainly a bit twisted!
> 
> I fully and solely blame/credit/recommend [this work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141454), Leave the light on by zeraparker. Thank you for writing, inspiring and also encouraging! :) But also damned be the FE department there, for I seem to always exit it so much more depraved than I was when I entered, goddammit! :D

Daniel gets back to the hotel late on Wednesday evening, filled with both good food and good mood after a successful night out with Marcus. They have been to an excellent sushi restaurant and had the most enjoyable time, and the tastes of fresh fish and seaweed as well as cheerful laughter still pleasantly ghost in the pits of Daniel’s mouth. It’s in moments like this one when he is genuinely sorry about Max not eating seafood, they would have certainly had a blast together again - but, oh well, _his loss_ , thinks Daniel as he stands in the bathroom, in front of the stone basin, splashing water on his face to freshen up. Besides, it _is_ nice to hang out with the other guys on the grid from time to time as well. He grabs one of the thick, soft towels neatly hanging from the hooks on the wall, wipes his face dry and then reaches for the toothbrush.

He hears the faint sounds of the door of his room being opened, the click of the lock and the creak of the handle - funny, how in every part of the world they get to visit the locks and the handles on hotel room doors seem to click and creak the same way - over the frothy sounds of him brushing his teeth, and a lopsided grin visits his face while the brush is still deep in his right cheek. It must be Max, there is no-one else who would have the key card - except for the hotel staff, of course, and Daniel is pretty sure it is customary for them to knock before entering and possibly disturbing the honorable hotel guest. And especially so in Japan, where people in general are in Daniel’s mind so excruciatingly reserved and polite it sometimes makes him feel like he’s too bubbly and outward to simply handle.

They have done it for a long time already, Daniel and Max, exchanging their spare key cards whenever they are booked into a hotel. Which is often, way more times already than Daniel can count. It never ceases to amuse him, the fact that they are always given two room keys, no doubt in the presumption that the two handsome Formula 1 superstars are destined to eventually run into lucky ladies more than willing to spend the night, key cards changing their holders over bar counters and room numbers being whispered into attentive ears over the surrounding buzz. Oh, what would the ever reserved and polite receptionists downstairs think! if they heard who ended up having Daniel’s spare key the second they got to the elevator after having checked in and whose key Daniel has, like so many times before, how they are planning to make a disarray and a mess of the bright white sheets when they have and hold each other and sleep blanketed with the afterglow in each other’s arms.

Max doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word, doesn’t walk into the bathroom to greet Daniel by leaning flush against his back and pressing his hips firmly against the counter with his own, half-hard against Daniel’s arse; but Daniel doesn’t read too much into it. Romanticism for them is a fluid concept and there is ease in the combination they form that allows them to feel secure and certain about each other without having to constantly monitor and make sure. So Daniel is in no more rush than usual to spit out the minty foam staining his lips, rinse and gargle loudly before heading to the room. He switches the light off with a nifty movement of his fingers and closes the bathroom door behind him.

Max has changed to sweatpants and a t-shirt but is seated on the sofa, silent and stagnant, which to Daniel seems exceptional. Usually Max is quite eager to get Daniel to bed - or wherever it is they decide to fuck - with him at the first opportunity that presents itself to them, and Daniel often chuckles at that, jokes regularly about the virile youth that Max is still clearly full of and radiates, making Daniel feel forever young and boisterous as well. And that is one of the reasons they are so effortless together and one of the things Daniel is so fond of in Max, they share the same joyous devil-may-care attitude and it makes them the same in spite of the eight years and thousands of kilometers that separate them on paper.

But now, as Daniel studies Max in a brief moment of stillness, he comes to notice that his frame is sharp and lukewarm and he doesn’t even look up from his phone when the door of the bathroom clicks shut. And suddenly Daniel _feels_ the thousands of kilometers splitting the space between them despite the two being in the same room, only a couple of meters and blinks of an eye apart. Daniel swallows, something mixes in his mouth with the taste of mint.  
“Hey, you”, says Daniel but doesn’t inch from where he is standing. His own breathing sounds all too loud in his ears now, in the heaviness of the air around them, every exhale a scream and every inhale a cry.  
“Hmm”, answers Max reluctantly, still not looking up and the cold light from the phone screen making his already pale skin look sickeningly white. “Nice of you to finally come back.”  
“What are you talking about?” asks Daniel, taking a couple of steps forward and slowly trying to cross the gulf that keeps him from reaching Max. “Get a hold of yourself, Max, we've settled this ages ago. You’ve never set me a damn curfew before and I didn’t expect to have one now either.”

Max switches his phone off, the screen goes black and leaves his face dark and shadowed. He gets up and finally turns his gaze to Daniel; and Daniel can’t help noticing the anger trying to hide itself in Max’s features, masking Max from him and making him come across as stale and somehow _wrong_.  
“So, did you have a good time with him?” asks Max, not giving Daniel an answer at all, and his voice is a blade of steel that cuts through the air. “You sure looked like you weren’t missing me at all. Was it fun?”

Daniel is taken aback by how seethingly upset Max appears - they had naturally talked about Daniel visiting the restaurant with Marcus instead of Max for the very reason that Max doesn’t eat seafood a good while ago already. Max had seemed perfectly fine with it at that time, having even thrown in a joke about Daniel clearly preferring blondes and having knowingly picked the one driver resembling Max on the outside perhaps the most as his companion to make up for the absence of Max. Daniel had laughed and kissed Max, kissed him softly in the fiery wave of affection that had gone through him; and now all of it seems distant, the warm kiss and the tender teasing, as Daniel keeps charting Max’s face and discovering more and more of nothing but crossness.  
“I actually had fun, yeah”, answers Daniel, disbelief and frustration creeping up his throat and mixing themselves with the words he speaks. “And I would have probably stayed out longer if I had known what kind of treatment was waiting for me here.”

Max’s eyes flash. “I missed you”, he says and the words would be soothing and sweet were they not spat out with such incredulous disaffection. “I’ve been here alone for a long time, waiting for you.”  
“Well, too bad”, responds Daniel irritably, shakes his head at Max’s adolescent neediness. “Maybe you should have headed out as well and, I dunno, get yourself some pizza instead of moping around at the hotel. Jesus.”

He turns his back to Max and slowly makes his way to the bed, clearly not waiting for Max to join him anymore. He still doesn't bother actually telling Max to fuck off but gives him the perfect chance to get the hint and do exactly so; he hears the steps behind him, quieted and dulled by the soft carpet underneath their feet, and then he gasps and jolts when he suddenly feels a blindingly tight grip on his arm, Max’s fingers digging deep into his skin and flesh and _God_ , Daniel swears they dig into the bone as well.  
“What do you think you’re doing?” argues Max, easily fends off one or two of Daniel’s weaker attempts to break free from his hold. Daniel is still standing with his back towards Max and can’t see his face, but he hears and senses Max’s breathing, deep and demanding, and his body tenses up in a way that somehow reminds him of their first time, the nerves and anticipation quickly overridden by all-powerful lust. It’s a lifetime ago now, when Daniel stands with his back to Max and Max has his arm in a grip so tight the sting spreads from it and blurs his outlines.  
“Going to sleep”, answers Daniel through gritted teeth and unyielding lips. “And maybe you should as well. In the next room.”

Daniel feels Max freezing behind him, lightning bolts shoot up and down his arm, to and from Max’s fingers around it. For a moment there is no other sound but their breaths, in, out.  
“No”, answers Max; the word brushes the back of Daniel’s neck and makes the hair there stand up rather than the moving air. He shifts closer to slip his free hand through the emptiness between Daniel’s left arm and his side, and Daniel turns to stone at the touch. “He got to have you for the whole evening, I would really like to have you to myself for a moment.”  
“Max”, hisses Daniel, grabs the fingers of Max’s left hand with his own and tries to twist the arm off his chest, heart drumming and pounding. “What are you doing, fuck off.”  
“No”, Max says again and clenches his hand around a good fistful of Daniel’s t-shirt to prevent Daniel from fighting it off, the soft fabric tightening over Daniel’s back and sides. “I waited for you here alone and I hope it wasn’t for nothing.”

Jesus, how _suffocating_ Max feels when he closes the space between his own chest and Daniel’s back, forcefully yanking Daniel close and pinning him against his ribcage. Daniel swerves and slithers, tries to use the whole of his body and all of his weight to push Max away; but dear _gods_ how Max is built nowadays-! Steely and tall, he counters Daniel’s attempts by leaning against him even tighter and twisting him towards the bed, writhing to down him, and there is a certain amount of merciless inescapability in the way the fact that Max is fully hard flashes to Daniel when he inadvertently grinds against the swell on the front of Max’s sweatpants while trying to wrestle him off.  
“See what you’re doing to me?”, breathes Max against the quivering skin of Daniel’s neck as if having read his thoughts, probing Daniel’s mind and rendering it blank. “Let me have you, Daniel.”  
“No, Max, not like this”, gasps Daniel and tries to push back against Max once more, but Max is the stronger one this time around and has more room to move, and with a grunt and one last forceful shove he reels Daniel enough for him to lose his balance and fall forward onto the bed. Daniel doesn’t quite crash flat on his stomach and he instinctively digs his hands and knees in the mattress, trying to get back up as soon as he can, but he feels the bed dip behind him and then Max is everywhere around him at once, burning and all-consuming.

“Did you let him prepare you?” asks Max with a low growl as he chains Daniel down on his elbows using his whole body, torso so tightly flush against Daniel’s back he can feel the backbone arching to meet the muscles in his own chest and abdomen, and his left arm looped around Daniel’s throat and shoulders to keep him anchored. “You let him open you up a little in the restaurant toilet, right?” he continues while harshly pulling the hem of Daniel's shirt up his back, up until his shoulder blades are bare and the stacked shirt stretches over his trapeziuses.  
“No, fuck you”, snaps Daniel and tries to bend himself upwards in an effort to fight back but Max is so _heavy_ , sheer heated, disarming muscle weight, and Max is already fumbling with the waistband of Daniel’s pajama pants with his free right hand.  
“Wrong answer”, snarls Max as he tugs the fabric down Daniel’s thighs, out of his way, exposing all of the curves and all of the hollows of Daniel to his gorging touch and delirious want. Daniel has not been wearing boxers underneath the pants, and Max can’t resist hissing “you clearly forgot your underwear in there” in continuation when he plainly enters a finger inside Daniel - slow, so slow but still indisputable in the end, he manages to make his way in despite Daniel trying to clench and squirm. A long, angry groan escapes from Daniel’s throat at the forceful intrusion, the sound of a hurt and bewildered animal, and his muscles sharpen underneath his skin.

“ _Fuck_ , Daniel”, gasps Max almost unknowingly, Daniel is narrow and slick to the point of wet around the one digit and he has obviously done _something_ in order to ready himself; but Max still adds another and draws a cry from Daniel, both of them breathe in harsh gasps now and the hot air Max exhales against Daniel’s shoulder blade rebounds off the skin and back to his mouth. Max moves his hand decisively, fucks the fingers into the heat of Daniel and Daniel whimpers and gasps somewhere below him already with every hit, still trying to lean forward to get farther from Max’s fingers but the hold Max has of him disallowing.  
“Don’t do that”, says Max and then retreats the hand himself. An involuntary shiver strikes Daniel at the sudden feeling of being left empty and worn. He feels the movement of Max’s fingers against his lower back once more and the rustling and shifting of Max impatiently tearing his sweatpants down enough seem to resound in Daniel’s very core; and then there’s the feeling of Max’s length being pressed firmly against his crack, hard and overbearing, gliding along the curved edges of Daniel’s arse with ease.

“Fuck, Max, fuck you”, grunts Daniel again and tries to buck his rear up, then down, but fails and feels Max’s cock all the more, exuding heat and want.  
“Stop, let me”, whispers Max thickly, roughly feeling about in the non-existent space between their bodies. “Let me, Daniel”, he repeats as he lines his cock along the streak and sinks his fingertips deep in Daniel’s reluctant flesh to make way for himself. And he thrusts, tries, ruthless but not getting even halfway in with the first initial moves, not with the fight in Daniel making him so tense and unbending; but it wanes and his muscles give in to Max with tactile aversion, and Max buries himself into Daniel all the way once he feels the surrender, all the way until bottoming out and stilling there. They both cry and choke, Daniel wails with the agony ripping through him and tries to turn his head to bite his teeth into Max’s arm but finds it impossible, only feeling soft skin and trembling against his cheek, and the feeling contrasts to everything and messes with his head.

They lose their words, neither talks anymore; not through other than harrowing breaths. Max holds them both in place for a second before snapping his hips again, making them rock back and forth in the same shared rhythm. He picks up pace, makes it quick and dirty, everything is unsteady at first but soon eases as Daniel grows more compliant around him, and he edges his free hand along Daniel’s hip to his front. They’re both wavering with the strain, on the edge of collapsing onto the bed in a spent heap; but Max still has enough strength to force them into position, and Daniel’s wordless pleas fill his ears when he furls his fingers around Daniel’s cock and starts to work him fast.  
“Daniel”, sighs Max against Daniel’s shoulder like in a trance, nothing in his world anymore but the rhythm of his thrusts and the feverish heat of Daniel’s body. _Daniel_ he exhales again and sinks his teeth in Daniel’s skin along with the word. And Daniel comes at that instant, comes with short, harsh gasps, with Max’s bone piercing his skin and Max’s flesh piercing his body and Max’s soul piercing his own. Max feels the shockwaves of it resonating in every corner of his being and it doesn’t take long for his peak to build and for the waves to crash over him as well, the spiral of them pulling him down, down.

They lose their words and they lose their air; they stay still like that for eternities, Max yet to retreat from Daniel and Daniel’s breathing coming out shallow and ragged somewhere underneath him.  
“Daniel”, whispers Max one more time and places a light kiss on the teeth marks he has sketched on Daniel, his work of art. “I love you, Daniel. I love you.”  
“I know”, breathes Daniel, trembling uncontrollably and unable to say another word, Max now being the only thing keeping him somewhat in place.  
“I’m going-” starts Max, not needing to continue the sentence any further; Daniel knows from half a word, and his muscles startle and twitch on their own accord once more when Max outs himself. Max tries to soothe it by drawing circles on his side with his palm, kissing the curls on the back of his head over and over again.  
“Here, come here”, he says while he hurriedly reaches for two of the plush pillows and places them in front of himself. He lays down beside Daniel and then holds out his arms to gently try and help Daniel next to him; they’re both exhausted and weak and Daniel ends up crashing rather than gracefully stretching himself half on top of Max, but down he lays, Max’s arm coils around him and his head comes to rest on Max’s shoulder.

They stay silent for a while, calmly gazing at each other and redrawing the outlines of each other’s cheeks and temples with sluggish fingertips, like reminding themselves as well as each other of the true warmth of their being and the loving lightness of their touch; somehow ascending from an abyss as well as descending from a dizzy height.  
“Did I- Oh my God, there’s going to be a bruise…” whispers Max as he gently traces the reddened markings on Daniel’s right arm in the place where he put his grip on. “I didn’t mean to.”  
He searches for Daniel’s eyes with his own until he meets them and then sighs _I didn’t mean to_ again, his words thick with affection and fogged with care.  
“No, it’s okay”, says Daniel, sounding slightly hazy and heavy-tongued. “I can always say that I had some sort of a very bizarre accident at the gym…”

Max quietly says _mhm_ and bites the inside of his lip. It doesn't escape Daniel's attention, not in the slightest; Daniel lifts his hand from Max’s temple to clumsily run his fingers through Max’s disheveled, damp hair.  
“Hey, you”, says Daniel like he said when he first found Max on the sofa, silent and stagnant, what now feels like such a long time ago. “Speak.”

A small smile curves Max’s lip but doesn’t quite reach his eyes yet. He takes in a slow, ponderous breath. Hell, of course they _knew_ it was going to be raw and painful beyond measure, it was always more of a question of whether Daniel would be able to bear it, or whether they both would be able to bear it, rather than whether it was going to ache. But now looking Daniel in the eye somehow makes him strikingly tangible to Max again, and he itches to drop the act, lose the roles.  
“I just... well, we talked about this”, he starts, Daniel sees his gaze darting back and forth as he shuffles through his heart and brain to find the words. “And you said that you would be able to take it, but- I still just want to make sure that you know that I would never… never in real life.”  
“Yeah, I know”, whispers Daniel when Max’s voice falters and fades. He lays his palm gently on Max’s cheek, as if trying to still his restless eyes with the weight of his hand. “I know. It’s all good, I’m all good. You were good. We wouldn’t have probably done any of this if there had been any doubt that it would… y’ know, turn out to be any realer.”

And Max lets the slow, ponderous breath out and nods, the white sheet rustles lightly against his cheek.  
“Yeah, I know”, he says, echoing Daniel, echoing him with all of himself.  
“You okay?” Daniel continues, tranquil and serious. There might not exist for them the need to monitor and make sure for most of the time but now, if ever, is the moment to do exactly both.  
“Yeah, I'm good”, Max says and takes a gentle hold of Daniel’s fingers, kisses the warm junction of veins and skin and pulse on the inside of his wrist. “Are you?”  
“Yeah”, responds Daniel and cracks a little smile. “I love you so much, you must know that.”

This time Max’s face lights up without hesitation and they fall voiceless again, unknowingly - or perhaps more knowingly than they realize themselves - running through the same thoughts and playing the same memories in their heads. How it all came down to this, Max throwing in the joke about Daniel clearly preferring blondes and the pair of them somehow ending up from there to gauge with words the depths of their love and lust, uncertainties and jealousy; exchanging the keys to their twilight sides and their wills to have and to hold in ways unnamed and unspoken of. And that is one of the reasons they are so effortless together and one of the things Daniel is so fond of in Max, they are the same and they are molding each other into the same in spite of the eight years and thousands of kilometers that separate them on paper.

“Where- how did you, uh, get ready?” asks Max after a moment, still wanting to dissect the play to the fullest to get it out of his system, take the script they wrote and tear it to pieces. “I didn’t come here very long after you.”  
Daniel’s expression grows inscrutable, smug, he somehow manages to appear utterly flustered yet undoubtedly and unashamedly proud of himself and his mischiefs at the same time.  
“In the restaurant toilet. By myself, or course, not with Marcus”, he says, and clearly enjoys the looks of absolute horror and amusement mixing on Max’s face. “Just before we left. Quick as I could. The fucking lube just went everywhere, I swear. And then I told them that my bowels weren’t working properly because I ate a nice but very milky yoghurt earlier in the day and that’s why it took me so much time to go to the toilet.”

That’s it. Daniel being so fucking _Daniel_ is what it takes for the spell to break apart and for Max to laugh and unwind, and it makes him cherish Daniel all the more.  
“You can’t be serious”, he chuckles, aiming for mild disapproval but the badly veiled admiration in his voice betraying him. “At the restaurant?”  
“Yeah, not joking”, answers Daniel and grins a drowsy grin. “Poor clueless Marcus. Shit. This is so fucked up, Max, we’re so fucked up. It hurt like a motherfucker, there's no question about that, but it was so good. You were so good. Fucking hell, Max, I love you so fucking much I'm going to explode.”  
Max still comes to a halt for a second, balancing between the thoughts of having hurt Daniel and Daniel being so thoroughly _okay_ with it; and then he smiles back at Daniel, equally flustered and yet, without a doubt, equally unashamed.  
“I love you too”, he says once more, the feeling suddenly tenfold, hundredfold. And their lips meet for a kiss, at last for a kiss, soft and peaceful.

“Did you have a good time with Marcus, though?” Max asks quietly once they part and he couldn’t have voiced the question more differently from the first time, he’s nothing but mellow and lazily caresses Daniel’s cheek with the backs of his fingers.  
“I did, yeah”, Daniel answers and the air of the words brushes against Max’s lips. “But never as good as with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Daniel returns to the hotel where he and Max are staying in during the Japanese GP after visiting a restaurant with Marcus. Max enters Daniel's room shortly after that and appears abnormally jealous about Daniel having spent the evening with someone other than him. After a short argument Max ends up forcing himself on Daniel. It then becomes apparent that the act is pre-negotiated and has its roots in a discussion the two have had about whether they're jealous of each other, and they talk the act through again afterwards when it surfaces that having physically hurt Daniel threatens to take its toll on Max's conscience.


End file.
